Who Said It Was Easy?
by caramelsong
Summary: The war is over and the rebels won. Everything should be okay, but Peeta and Katniss have one more challenge to tackle: raising kids. Oneshot collection, not in chronological order.
1. Introduction to the Games Part 1

**I'm doing this collection of oneshots as they come to me. It's gonna center on Peeta and Katniss' lives as parents. As usual, don't own anything you may recognize. All rights to Suzanne Collins.**

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**Introduction to the Games Part 1**

Class is boring, as usual.

Mother says we're lucky we get to learn things other just than those related to coal mining, which was what she grew up with, but it doesn't mean it's all interesting.

Panem History is just about the worst of them all. The teacher, Mrs Simmons, is an old lady originally from District Five, with frizzy red hair and a wheezing speaking voice. She enters the room and doesn't waste time in opening her book.

"Turn to Chapter Seven, children," she says. That's another thing. She insists on calling us children. My little brother Dylan is a child. I'm not. I'm eleven years old this year. Daddy says I'm practically grown up.

"Last week we discussed the rebellion nearly a hundred years ago known as the Dark Days," Mrs Simmons begins her lecture. My seatmate Arista giggles. She always finds it funny when Mrs Simmons speaks.

"Lira," she says, nudging me.

"Hm?" I leaned closer to her, still trying to make sense of the lesson. Mrs Simmons talks about a punishment for the rebellion now.

"Lillian Mellark! Arista Cartwright!"

The two of us jump at the sound of our names being called. We look at each other sheepishly as the class begins to laugh.

My name is Lillian Aurora Mellark, but almost no one calls me that. My Dad though he'd be funny when I was little and started to call me Lira, a combination of the first and last syllable of my name. Mother wanted to call me Lily, but Daddy says that even she couldn't argue that I just don't look like a 'Lily'. Eventually everyone started calling me Lira. It was far easier for me when I was young and just learning how to write my name.

"Please listen to the lecture. Especially you, Lillian. You might find this interesting," she adjusts her black-rimmed glasses and continues to read. "Where was I? Oh, yes. The Dark Days angered the Capitol. The twelve remaining Districts were punished with an annual event called the Hunger Games, to remind them that they are under the mercy of the Capitol entirely."

The Hunger Games. It sounded familiar. I think I've heard of my mother and father talking about it with old Haymitch Abernathy once, but Mother saw me eavesdropping and immediately sent me to my room.

I look at Arista, the silent question in my eyes. Why would this interest me in particular?

"The Hunger Games is basically a game of survival, where a girl and a boy aged twelve to eighteen, from each District are picked via a lottery called the Reaping. They are called Tributes, and they are sent to an outdoor arena to fight to the death until only one remains as Victor." Gasps erupt from the girls and even the boys look horrified. I couldn't imagine it.

"The Hunger Games continued for seventy-five years. Every twenty-five years, a special Games, called Quarter Quells, are held, which included a twist in the reaping for the Games. In the twenty-fifth, the Tributes are elected by the Districts. In the fiftieth, twice as many Tributes are chosen. Haymitch Abernathy won that. In the Seventy-fifth and last Games, the Tributes are Reaped from the existing pool of Victors."

A heavy silence follows this. This is unlike anything I've ever heard. I couldn't imagine teenagers going in and killing each other. I wonder what it was like for my parents, waiting for someone to be picked to go to the Games. Were they frightened?

And Haymitch… is that why he spent his days drunk?

"The Seventy-fifth Games didn't have a victor as the rebellion broke out while the Tributes are in the Arena. And District Twelve has the honour of producing the last victors of the Games. This pair won the Seventy-fourth Games together."

"Wait," says Henry Blythe, raising his hand, "you said there can only be one victor. How did they win together?"

"This pair threatened double suicide. So instead of having no victor, the Capitol allowed two," I notice she's giving me an amused look. I have a feeling in my gut that I am not going to like what she will say next.

"The last victors of the Hunger Games are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark."

I look down on my book and started flicking through the pages. I found the chapter on the Games and surely enough, at the bottom of the page showing all the past Victors, were the names Katniss Everdeen-Mellark and Peeta Mellark.

_Katniss Everdeen-Mellark,_ the page reads, _volunteered in place of her sister and won in the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. Reaped a second time in the Seventy-Fifth Games. Eventually led the second rebellion. Peeta Mellark, won the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games and volunteered in place of Haymitch Abernathy in the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games. Part of the rebellion._

Everyone looks at me in awe and I start to feel heat rising in my cheeks. I get annoyed. Why are they giving me such looks? Because my parents outlived twenty-two other people, possibly killing a few along the way?

"Katniss and Peeta were the only pair ever to win the Games. A rule change was announced halfway, saying that District partners are allowed to win together should they be the last Tributes standing. But it was revoked when it came down to the two of them. Their defiance sparked the rebellion and because of this, they were both sent back to the Arena the next year," Mrs Simmons looks at me with a curious expression. Was it pity?

My parents. Sent to an arena twice to kill each other. I couldn't imagine it. My calm, collected father and my sensible mother, who have never even raised a hand against me or my brother. Was that the reason Mother screams in her sleep or why there are times when Father looks like he's in extreme pain, clutching the back of the chair?

"So that's why it's called the Victor's Village, and why they've always lived there!" Arista exclaims. I shoot her a dirty look and she hushes, looking embarrassed. I give myself a mental kick as I realize she's right. I can't believe I didn't make the connection when they started mentioning Victors.

They continue discussing the Games but I'm not paying attention anymore. I couldn't imagine my parents as killers. Mother is a hunter, but she never kills without reason. And Daddy killing somebody just sounds absurd.

I need to get home.

Finally the bell rings and I say silent thank you that Panem History is our last class for the day. I bolt out of the door and walk over to the other side of the building to wait for Dylan to come out.

"Now, everybody, don't go picking on Lira Mellark, do you hear?" I hear someone say loudly. I turn to see Acantha Holden and her friends all looking at me with those stupid smirks in their faces. I glare at her and she pretends to wince in fright.

"Oh, I'm so scared right now, someone save me!" she gives a false shriek then her expression changes to one of certainty. "How do you feel now, Lira? Feeling ashamed to know the truth about your parents? Or feeling proud of the fact that they were once murderers?"

Murderers. The term struck me like a knife. My parents aren't murderers.

"Leave Lira alone, Acantha!" Arista comes to my rescue, as she usually is. "If it weren't for her parents, you would be on your way to a Reaping!" She said the last part in a softer tone as there are younger kids looking in.

"Oh yeah? From what I heard, it was her parents' fault too, that less than half of District Twelve survived. Wasn't it her mother's fault this District got bombed anyway? Most of my family died in there!"

"Shut your face, Acantha," I growl at her. I don't like what I'm hearing. I hear "ooohhss" among the crowd that gathered around us.

"Or what?" she moves towards me, her blonde hair swishing in the wind. "Or what, Mellark? You'll send your Mommy to kill me?"

That is it.

I don't remember what happened after that. Everything went by in a blur. All I can recall is Acantha's screams and the catcalls of onlookers.

The next thing I know, I'm in the Principal's office. My parents had been called in and my mother took Dylan home while my father stayed with me.

"I'm so sorry, I assure you that she'll never do that again," Daddy says. He's been apologizing for me for the past ten minutes. He looks at me expectantly. "I'm sorry too. I won't do it again," I say grudgingly. But I can't help but add, "But I don't regret it."

"Lillian Mellark!" I know he's angry now.

"She provoked me!" I tell him.

"What did she do, sweetheart?" he asks me, his voice more gentle now. A good thing about Daddy is that he never stays angry for long.

"Can I tell you later?" I plead. I don't really want to talk about it in front of the Principal.

"Of course," Daddy replies understandingly. "Is she going to receive punishment for this?" he turns to the Principal. I had almost forgotten about him.

"This is her first offense, so I'm letting her go with a warning. This is strange, Lillian, you're normally one of the behaved students," he says, looking at me.

"It won't happen again," I tell him quickly.

He sighs. "You may go. Thank you for your time, Mr Mellark."

Daddy nods and leads me out of the office. We walk in silence but I notice he isn't heading home.

"Daddy? Home is this way," I point out the path leading to the Victors' Village.

"I know. We're going to the Meadow," he answers simply.

"Oh," was all I can say as I follow him out.

Once we get there, he sets himself down, having a little difficulty because of his prosthetic leg. I had to wonder, was it because of the Games that he lost his leg?

He pats the grass next to him, which I take as an invitation to join him.

"Lira, why did you do that?" he puts an arm around me. I couldn't look at him. "You never get into fights."

I keep my mouth shut, not knowing how to respond. What can I say? It was nothing, Daddy, I just learned that you've killed people before!

Urgh. Even in my head it sounded wrong.

"Lillian Aurora Mellark." Wonderful, he's using my full name now. "You tell me right now or I'm marching you to your mother and let her deal with it."

I don't know what made me blurt it out, but I did.

"We learned about the Hunger Games today."

A surprised look crosses Daddy's face for a moment before it becomes an understanding one.

"I see."

"Have you… have you killed anyone in the Arena, Daddy? What about Mother? Tell me the truth, please."

He takes a deep breath. "I have," he says finally. "Unintentionally, in the first Arena, but not in the second. Your mother and I, we went into that second Arena focused on protecting the other."

I finally look up at him. I can see the sadness in his eyes.

"I hope knowing that wouldn't change your views of your mother and me," he tells me. Change my view of them? I can't say I'm not bothered by it, but nothing can change the fact that they have been nothing but great parents to Dylan and me. Nothing can change the fact that I love them both with all of my heart.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask softly.

"Your mother and I wanted to tell you at the right time," he says. "We want to make you understand it in a way that won't make you scared. We want you to get courage from what we went through."

I understand what he's saying. When I was younger, I used to ask them why we were the only people in the Victor's Village. Haymitch told me once, in the middle of a drunken stupor, that it was because my parents had more money. I never thought more about the name. I thought it was nothing of particular significance. And my parents make quite a bit of money from the bakery my father runs in town.

I never once imagined that all of the comforts I experience now came at a heavy price on my parents' behalf.

"Daddy," I speak up, plucking a dandelion and twirling it between my fingers. "I got into a fight because Acantha called you murderers. I got angry because she doesn't know anything and yet she talks like she does."

"Do you think we are?" he asks me.

"No," I reply truthfully. "Never. I love you and Mother, Daddy. Nothing changes that," I hug him. "I just wish you'd tell me so I understand."

"We love you too," he says as he strokes my dark hair.

"I want to know what happened."

Daddy looks at me for a moment. I know he's having an internal debate. I hold my breath.

Finally he sighs and says, "We'll talk to your mother."

I nod and we get up. He puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk back home.

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_**Note:**_

_-Katniss and Peeta's daughter is named Lillian Aurora. I don't know why I called her Lillian. I guess I just liked the name? I wanted to call her Lily but it didn't feel right to me. I wanted her name to have some relation to a flower at least. Aurora means dawn, and I guess it's only fitting that she's named that after everything her parents went through. And that her birth symbolizes a new beginning for Katniss and Peeta. Her nickname Lira was something of an accident. I was flicking through a name dictionary for music-related names and the name Liron, which means 'my song' in Hebrew came up. Just a few names later was the name Lyra ( which means Lyre, an instrument), so I mixed it up since Liron sounded male. I wanted to have music in her name since her dad took note of her mom's singing voice when he had a crush on her for the first time. I made a list.. I had about ten names related to music, but I wanted something that sounds strong. How else would the Mockingjay name her kid? ;)_

_-Her brother's name is Dylan. I just like the name. Haven't figured out a middle name yet. If you have any ideas, I'm all for it._

_-Acantha means 'thorns' in Greek. Tch. Explains her sucky attitude._

_**REVIEW PLEASE! The talk with Katniss will be up when I get on with it. Reviews mean a quicker update.**_


	2. Introduction to the Games Part 2

**Oh gosh, can you guys be more awesome? I woke up to 30 emails after I posted the first chapter! Thank you so much! **

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**Introduction to the Games Part 2**

Mother is waiting for us when we arrive home. I brace myself for a lecture about being irresponsible, for being impulsive, but all she did when I opened the door was pull me in for a hug.

"I'm so glad you weren't hurt," she says in my ear. "Did you get punished?"

I was so shocked I can only shake my head in response.

"She was let off with a warning since it's a first offense," Daddy tells her as he walks in. She lets go of me to give him a kiss. I try to hide my smile. I don't get why my peers get uncomfortable when their parents display affection. My parents make it look so normal. And not at all disgusting.

Mother turns to me. "Lira, why did you punch that girl?"

Was that what I did? Punched Acantha? She got off lucky then. But my mother is looking at me pointedly and I let myself look ashamed.

"Don't bother, Katniss, she's not sorry," my father says, amusement in his tone.

"I _am_ sorry," I insist. "I just don't regret doing it."

"She should have a good reason though," Mother says.

"Dylan," Daddy calls my brother, who is sitting on the living room couch, squinting at what looks like his homework. "Go to your room, please. We need to talk to your sister alone."

Dylan looks at me sympathetically, almost like he's scared for me. I nod at him to assure him that I'll be alright. Wordlessly, he gathers his things and moves up the stairs. We wait until we heard the sound of his bedroom door closing before my parents both set themselves on the couch. They leave a gap in the middle, which I assume is for me.

I take a seat and my mother puts an arm around my shoulder.

"Can you tell me what happened then?" she prompts. I'm surprised. My mother usually doesn't tolerate things like this. She always tells us that we shouldn't be picking fights or hurting people. Looking back on all she's ever said about the topic, I now understand her concerns.

So I tell her. From what Mrs Simmons discussed in class to Acantha's taunting. I even told her about the way my classmates stared at me after they found out that my parents were in the Games. She listened the whole time, nodding encouragingly. When I finish, I look up at her expectantly. She looks like she's deep in thought and I know she's struggling to find the words to express what she wants to say.

"Listen to me, Lira," she says finally. "This is not the way I imagined you'd find out about the Games. I know you'll find out eventually, but I imagined telling you about it myself. We had an agreement between us when we rebuilt this District. We decided that we will never speak of the Games casually so that we won't have to think about the horrors. We didn't want the younger children exposed to it, and we eventually agreed that we would only tell them about it when they reach a certain age. I didn't know you were already doing that in school. We wanted to tell you about it ourselves," she exchanges a look with Daddy. "We will answer whatever question you may have. We promise to be honest."

"How bad were the Games?" I say before I can stop myself.

Mother takes a deep breath. "It was, to put in words, a nightmare," she begins. "You can't sleep properly because you know that your life is in danger at all times. Someone can find you while you sleep and kill you. You have to be alert at all times and everything you need can't always be found in the arena. You have to be resourceful in there. If you can't find food, you're going to starve to death. I almost died of dehydration. Your father had an injury that cost him his leg."

I know about my father's artificial leg. I have always wondered where he got it from when I was a child. He would always smile and shrug off my question, usually distracting me with something like sweets or toys.

"Your mother almost died getting the medicine that saved me from blood poisoning," Daddy adds, taking Mother's hand in his.

"Well, you wouldn't have gotten that wound if Cato didn't see you letting me escape," she retorts. Daddy simply smiles good-naturedly.

"Do you… do you have copies of the tapes?" I gather all of my bravery for this one. I'm sure I'll be refused, but I can't help but want to see it for myself.

"Are you sure?" Mother asks me, worry written all over her face.

I nod. After all, from what I've heard, it is mandatory viewing, meaning my parents watched it all their lives, since they were born most likely. I think I can handle watching it at my current age.

Daddy looks at Mother and I know she's debating.

"Okay," she breathes after a while. "Okay, you can. We can watch it at night, only when Dylan is asleep. But if it gets too scary for you, we will stop. Understand?"

I nod, trying to hide my anticipation.

"I'll find them from the basement," Daddy offers. Mother gives him a grateful look and she herself stood up.

"I have something I need to get, wait for me here," she instructs me.

"Okay," I say, folding my hands on my lap. She smiles and makes her way upstairs. I hear her checking on Dylan. Minutes later, she comes back with a thick book in her arms.

"Before we show you the tapes, I want you to see this," she holds it out to me. I open the book gingerly and my mother's careful handwriting greets me: "In loving memory of all those who perished to make the future of Panem brighter."

I look at my mother and see that she has a sad smile on her face. "Your father and I put this book together to remember all the people we've lost in the war and in the Games. It was something we did so that we could accept their deaths and also to always remind us about the things we loved about them, about what they died for."

I open the book. The first picture is of a small, slight blond girl smiling at me, her bright blue eyes twinkling. Underneath her picture is the name Primrose Everdeen.

"This is..."

"My sister Prim," Mother says to me. "She died in a bombing at the Capitol while helping evacuate children. She was serving as a medic. She was only thirteen then."

I look at the picture again. She looked a lot like my grandmother. I almost couldn't believe she and my mother were sisters, they looked so different. I read the words on the next page, still in my mother's hand. There are blotches on some parts, which I guess are remains of the tears my mother shed while she wrote about the sister she loved and lost.

_Prim loved animals. She saved a stray cat from being drowned by her sister and nursed a dying goat back to health. I remember it licking her cheek, as if thanking her for saving its life. She is sweet, loving and kind, always smiling despite not having an easy life. Prim, for the longest time, was the only person I was certain I loved and I did everything I can to protect her. She grew up to be a strong, brave young woman and I am proud to be her sister. She is an amazing healer with a steady hand and a quiet determination. _

_I'll always remember my sister. I will always remember her soft whimpering when there are storms because the lightning and thunder scared her. I'll always remember the comfort she provided me with on dark nights when it was just the two of us and our mother was too depressed to even move. I'll always remember her kind heart and her ability to see the best in people, something not everyone can do. I'll always remember how she never gave up hope that life can be better. I'll always remember how she filled our house with laughter. I'll always remember how she made me a fighter, just so I can protect her. I'll always miss her. I'll always love her._

_-Katniss Everdeen_

I look at Mother and see that she has tears in her eyes. I put the book down and hug her as tightly as I can. We sit there like that in silence for a while. I don't even notice Daddy arriving until he sat down next to Mother, holding a box.

"I found them," he says simply.

Mother lets go of me. "Thanks, Peeta," she gives him a teary smile. Daddy responds with a smile of his own and hides the box behind the television set.

Dinner was normal. Or at least as normal as it can be. As usual, Daddy keeps the conversations going and Dylan responds enthusiastically. Mother and I mainly just concentrated on the food but answered when we're being addressed.

Finally, when the dishes are cleared and put away, Mother took Dylan upstairs to be tucked in. She always tucks him in and sings him to sleep. She used to do the same for me, but I said it was okay if she went to Dylan instead.

We only had to wait fifteen minutes before she's back, carrying blankets with her. Daddy sets up the television and I sit on the couch beside Mother, taking the blanket she offered me.

Daddy joins us and sets himself on my other side just as a loud anthem plays and the old seal of Panem appears on the screen. I recognize it from the textbooks.

One by one, a girl and a boy were picked from each District. My stomach flutters. The people I'm looking at are probably ones who fought with my parents in the arena. Who lost their lives for my parents to return home. I feel knots forming at the pit of my stomach.

Finally, the screen flashes to District Twelve. I can only recognize it because it's being held in the town square, where a giant screen stood. A woman clad in green with bright pink hair stood on stage, two glass balls in front of her. "Happy Hunger Games!" she trilled. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

My parents gave a little laugh at this. "Effie," they say together.

"Effie? As in Effie Trinket?" I ask, my eyes going back to the screen. Effie looks different. I've met her a few times, but I'm almost certain that the person I'm watching is not the same person who used to sneak me candy when my parents aren't looking.

I already know who will be picked, but I still held my breath as her hand rummaged through the first ball and she took out a slip of paper.

"Primrose Everdeen," she read aloud.

I see my aunt, small and blonde, just like how my father painted her. She bravely walks to the stage but I can see her trembling. I'm almost her age. I can't imagine what it would be like to walk up there knowing you're probably walking to your death.

"Prim!"

A loud voice interrupts the solemnity of the square. And then I see her, in a plain blue dress with her trademark braid down her back. My mother at sixteen, stepping up from the roped area where she stood only moments ago.

"I volunteer!" she gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!"

"Were you scared?" I turn to my mother and I can see that she has a small sad smile on her face.

"Terrified," she answers. "But I had to do it. I couldn't let my little sister go in there. Besides, I knew I had a better shot at coming back alive."

I look back on the screen. It now shows my aunt hugging my mother fiercely from behind, screaming for her not to go. Mother fights it, telling her to let go, but she keeps her hold until a tall boy pulls her off my mother and carries her all the way back, where I see my grandmother. She looks younger, but her eyes still possessed the same sadness they do today.

"Who's that?" I ask, temporarily distracted from the drama of the Reaping to point at the boy who pulled my aunt away.

"Gale," my mother replies. I hear the sadness in her tone. "He was my best friend and hunting partner."

"What happened to him?"

"He moved away to District Two after the war," she answers. "I've not seen him since except for the times I manage to catch a glimpse of him on television."

There's something else going on, judging from the way my father turned away and my mother seems like she's holding something back. I decide now's not the time to ask, but I'm sure Gale played a bigger role in my parents' lives than just being my mother's friend. My mother gives my father's hand a reassuring squeeze and he smiles back.

The people on the screen are now giving my mother the District Twelve salute. I've never seen anyone given that in my life. My mother looks like she's trying to hold back her tears but she was saved by Haymitch, who decided to stagger to her side and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Look at her! Look at this one! I like her! Lots of… spunk!" He makes his way to the front, saying "More than you!" and then he faced the camera to say "More than you!" again. And then promptly passes out.

"Ah, Haymitch is such a joy during the Reapings," my father chuckled appreciatively.

A stretcher takes him away and Effie regains control of the stage, straightening her wig.

"What an exciting day!" she exclaims. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" Her hand finds a slip of paper on top of the glass ball and she reads out the name Peeta Mellark.

Like my mother, my father's sixteen year old appearance surprises me. But I can still tell it's him: same blond hair, same blue eyes… from which fear is clearly visible. Then a horrible realization came to me. This is the first time I've seen him without his prosthetic leg.

He takes his place next to my mother on stage. They shake hands and are led away to the Justice Building.

Daddy forwards the tape to a parade. One by one, Tributes dressed in clothes representing their districts arrive at what Mother called the city circle. I keep my eyes on the screen, eager to find my parents. I know they'll be last, but I had to blink twice to see if I'm hallucinating or not.

Because my parents arrived at the circle, hand in hand, pulled by coal black horses on a chariot…and they were on fire.

My mother had tears in her eyes as she watched herself on the screen. My parents looked magnificent. The incredulity must show in my face because my father joked, "We were hot, weren't we?"

Even Mother laughed at that one.

"Wasn't that scorching hot?" I ask looking back on the screen where the last of the flames disappeared from the circle and into a building.

"No, it was ticklish, really. It was just a synthetic flame," Daddy explains.

The tape was forwarded to the interviews, where I know my parents would be the last. I wait for my mother to arrive on stage. When she did, I gasped at the beautiful gown she wore, completely covered in jewels that shone in the light, giving her the impression of being engulfed in flames.

"The girl on fire," Daddy says in a hushed whisper.

"What?" I turn to him.

"Your mother's nickname during the Games. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire," he says the name in reverence.

"It was Cinna who gave me that name," Mother tells me. "My stylist," she adds, in response to my questioning look. "He and Portia, your father's stylist came up with the fire for our parade costumes and stuck with the flames for the rest of the Games."

I train my eyes back to the screen. My mother looked so beautiful in her dress but I can tell that she's uncomfortable. My father follows her and even then, it was clear that he was charismatic. He keeps the audience engaged, laughing at his statements, heck, he even sniffed the interviewer!

But the real surprise is when he confesses his love for my mother on live television, _the night before they go to an arena to kill each other_.

I look at them in disbelief.

"Were you really in love with Mother then?" I ask Daddy.

"You can call it infatuation," he replies, chuckling.

But my mother tenses up as the interviews end. The screen changes and all of a sudden, I realize what's coming. Soon I will see them in the arena.

I just don't know how I can prepare myself for that.

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**Reviews will be loved! Part three will be up soon!**

**And who else is as psyched for the movies? I heard good reviews about it, and I've been resisting clicking on movie clips. It's not easy, but meh.**


	3. Nightmares

Just something I wrote just now. Enjoy!

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I hear screaming again. I know I should be used to this, since it happens every once in a while. Daddy says it's because Mommy's having nightmares. I carefully open my door to see if my brother Dylan got woken up. I tiptoe to his room and relief floods over me when I see that he's still sleeping soundly. At least the racket didn't disturb him.

As I cross the hallway to go back to my bedroom, I notice the light seeping through the gap between the floor and my parents' bedroom door at the end of the hallway. Curious, I tread to their door to see what was going on.

I press my ear to the door and I hear Mommy's voice, soothing and gentle, repeating the same words again and again.

"Sshh…it's okay, Peeta, it's okay, it's not real," she murmurs. "Shhh.. it's not real."

What's not real? And I find it odd that Mommy is the one comforting Daddy. Usually, it's the other way around. I've never seen Daddy get nightmares. Until now.

I take a deep breath. Curiosity gets the better of me. I need to see what's happening, so, as slowly and as quietly as I can, I turn the doorknob and push the door open, just wide enough for me to take a peek inside. What I see surprises me.

The table lamp lays broken on the floor about five feet away from the nightstand it's supposed to be on. Pillows are everywhere, thrown carelessly around the room and the blanket hangs limp at the edge of my parents' bed. My parents were both sitting on the bed, their backs on the door. Daddy is holding on the headboard, his head bowed down and he's shaking madly. Mommy is beside him, in her robe, with her braid a disheveled mess, one hand holding his shoulder and the other, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Peeta, please," she says. "Remember? We're taking Dylan to his first day of school tomorrow. Our baby boy's finally going to school. You promised you'd be there. You're even more excited than he is even though you say he's growing up too fast. And Lira's going to be starting her third year in school too. It's feels like yesterday when we took her to her first day. Remember her first day? You bought her a red dress and I did her hair in two braids. You smiled so widely that day. And you baked their favorite cookies for them to take to school tomorrow. They'll be so happy. You love it when they're happy. You love their smiles. And they're so much like you, Peeta… so wonderful and loving. You can fight it off. I know you can." I hear her voice shaking and I realize that she's crying.

What's happening to Daddy?

I hear him say something, but it's too soft for me to understand.

"Peeta, fight it!" Mommy's almost shouting now. "For Lira and Dylan. For me, please, I don't want to lose you again," she begs him. Why would she lose him?

A few moments later and I see his grip loosen. He starts taking deep breaths and eventually turns to Mommy.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," he says. Why is he saying sorry?

"No," Mommy says as she hugs him. "No, you don't have to apologize. It's not your fault."

He hugs her back and I see that his eyes are on the door. He sees me. We stare at each other for a while and I know something's wrong. Daddy looks so sad.

"Katniss," he says as he lets go of Mommy. He points at me.

Mommy turns sharply and gasps when she sees me.

"Lira!" she stands up and almost runs to the door.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, I didn't mean to, I just…" I try to explain to her, but my fear gets the better of me. I start to cry.

"No, darling, don't cry," she picks me up and takes me inside the room. "Don't cry, Lira, it's okay."

I finally stop sobbing when she sets me down on the bed.

"Did you see that?" she asks me softly. I nod.

"I didn't mean to, but I heard screaming and I checked on Dylan, but then I saw the lights on and I just… I'm so sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry about it," she says. Daddy sits next to her.

"Did you get nightmares too, Daddy?" I ask him.

"Yes," he answers.

"Do you want me to sing to you? Mommy sings to us when we get them," I tell him.

Daddy smiles and says "Yes."

I sing him the Valley Song. I know it's one of his favorites. He says it reminds him of the first time he saw Mommy. He says she was in a red dress with her hair in two braids, like I was on my first day of school. Daddy says I was the prettiest girl in the world and Mommy smiled.

"Thank you, Lira," he says once I finish.

"Daddy, don't go," I say. "I don't want you to go."

He smiles and kisses my forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Come on, sweetie," Mommy takes my hand. "I'll tuck you back in. Say goodnight to Daddy."

"Goodnight, Daddy," I kiss his cheek before I leave the room with Mommy.

Mommy takes me to my room. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Lira," she says as she pulls my covers.

Once I'm in bed, she starts to sing, stroking my hair. I feel my eyes get heavier as her lullaby continues.

The last thing I hear before I fall asleep was her song.

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**Reviews will be loved! Please? Oh, and if any of you would want to submit requests or suggestions, I'm open for it! I'll post the third part of the previous chapters soon, but my sister's reading my copy of the Hunger Games and I need that so... it'll be up soon! **


	4. Introduction to the Games Part 3

**Here's part three, you guys!**

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I can barely hear Arista calling me, but I ignore it. I rush home, walking as fast as I can without running, because I want to finish my work so that I would be allowed to watch the remainder of the Games.

I feel anticipation at the pit of my stomach, because really, what could prepare you to see your parents fight for their lives?

I do my chores in silence, not even bothering to annoy Dylan, which earned me a strange look from him. When he asked, I simply answered that I'm too tired.

His bedtime came and as usual, Mother takes him upstairs to be tucked in. Daddy and I wait in the living room and I notice that Daddy has his sketchbook with him. He is quietly drawing something that looks like a monstrous dog with long fur, baring its sharp teeth.

"Daddy?" I hesitate. "Hm?" he replies, not looking up from his drawing.

"What is that?"

He pauses. I notice his fingers tighten around the charcoal pencil he's holding. I wait for a snap or an angry response, but instead, he smiles at me and says, "You'll find out later."

I'm sure I'm going to be seeing that dog in the arena.

Mother comes back downstairs and we gather at the couch again. She puts in the tape into the player and joins us.

The anthem plays again and I see a flat expanse of land, surrounded by a lake and trees. It zooms into a large golden horn, where a large supply of weapons and other necessities were piled. My mother calls it the Cornucopia and explains that it was the site for the opening bloodbath in the Games each year as the tributes risk their lives to get supplies. Some use it as an opportunity to take down as many tributes as possible. A little ironic, in my opinion. You choose between getting things to sustain you and risk getting killed at the same time or leaving with next to nothing and die of natural causes. I shake my head to get the thought out of my head as the screen changes into rapid shots of the twenty-four teenagers all standing in metal plates as a voice announces, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

A countdown begins. Sixty seconds. I ask my parents what happens if you step off the plates before the sixty seconds are over and my father gives me a simple, wry answer.

"You get blown to bits," he said. "There are landmines buried around your plate. It deactivates after the countdown is over."

I force my eyes back into the screen. Forty-five seconds left. I find my parents amidst the tributes, my mother in deep thought and my father watching her intently. She changes her stance, looking like she's about to run for the Cornucopia when their eyes meet and he shakes her head, as if telling her not to engage herself in the fighting.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. My mother still looks confused. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

And the tributes all dash out of their plates.

Mother's feet shuffles and she grabs the loaf of bread and the plastic sheet in front of her. Then she sprints to snatch an orange backpack a little further away.

And the killing begins. Left, right and center, tributes are starting to kill each other off. Some retreat quickly to the forest. The tributes from District 1 and 2, or the Careers, as my parents called them, mercilessly stabbed, speared and slashed at anyone within reach. A boy starts to tug at the backpack Mother has her hands on, but soon he coughs up blood in her face and falls on the ground, dead. I see a knife sticking out of his back, the girl from District 2 sneering at him. She reaches for another knife and throws it at my mother, who was already running away to the woods. She almost gets her, but Mother uses the pack to shield her head and continues to run. The girl looked like she was contemplating chasing Mother for a moment, before turning her back and re-joining the bloodbath.

My father however, was on a different track. He's now talking to a Career, the big, brutish one, who nodded at him. A smirk crosses the boy's features as he turns away and kills the girl from District 3, who was trying to get her hands on a knife.

The bloodbath continues. At the end of it, eleven tributes are dead and the Careers started cheering at the sound of the cannons.

Another girl was killed that night. She was found by the Careers when she lit a fire and was stabbed in the stomach. Then they left her to die.

Daddy came back to her, in the pretense of killing her for good, but he simply held her hand and comforted her until she died.

"I was nearby, you know," Mother said. "I was up in a tree and I was so scared they'd find me."

"This is awful," I say, turning to Mother. "Why did they let it happen for seventy-five years?"

"Fear, sweetheart," Mother replies sadly. "The Capitol had absolute power and the Districts are too scared to incite another rebellion, especially since the last one ended badly. You see the punishment they suffered after the Dark Days. Would you want to attempt that again?"

I shook my head, understanding where they're coming from.

We continued to watch the Games. My mother dropped a hive of tracker jackers on the Career pack, and killed two girls in the process. She also got stung. She staggered around before wrenching the bow and arrows away from the dead body of the District 1 girl.

"What happened?" I asked Mother, "When you get stung, I mean."

"It causes extreme pain," she explained. "And hallucinations. It causes you to see things that would terrify you."

My father appeared and pushed her away from the scene, but not quickly enough. The brutish boy from District 2 saw him help her and he turned to my father with a manic grin. He drew his sword and started slashing away madly. Fortunately, his aim was affected by the tracker jacker stings he received, but he managed to stab Daddy in the leg before the venom got the better of him and he collapsed. Daddy fled the scene before the rest of them returned, eventually setting himself by the stream, disguising himself with mud and weeds.

Mother woke up from her venom-induced sleep, and then teamed up with a little girl named Rue, who helped heal her stings. She destroyed the supplies the Careers stashed near the lake, and she explained that she lost hearing in her left ear because of it. Rue was killed by the boy from District 1, and he was killed by my mother in return. Mother held Rue as she took her last breaths, singing her the song she now sings to us before we sleep. I saw my mother's lip tremble as we watched the little girl slip away and I wrapped my arms around her.

Then it was announced that two winners could win if they came from the same district.

Mother went looking for Daddy at once and I can't help but sigh when she did. She took him into a makeshift cave and nursed him back to health.

The one thing that made me a little queasy was all the kissing.

I've gotten used to their affection at home, but it's one thing to see it while I was growing up, it's another to see them as teenagers. I feel a little like I'm invading their privacy.

My father was getting worse, his injured leg causing blood poisoning. A feast was announced, and my mother had to drug him so that she could get his medicine. He slept on while she went to the Cornucopia.

"I still resent that, you know," Daddy told her. "You could have died."

"It's been more than twenty years, Peeta, get over it."

The girl from Five ran off with her pack. Mother went to get hers, but she was stopped when the girl from Two threw a knife at her. The girl caught her and was about to cut up her face, taunting her about Rue, when the boy from Eleven yanked her off and killed her with a rock.

He looked at Mother, but eventually let her go. Mother set off to go back to the cave, still bleeding, and as soon as she administrated the medicine to Daddy, she passed out.

The boys from Two and Eleven had a battle in the middle of the pouring rain. In the end, the boy from Two won, but he didn't get off easy. He was badly injured, but he had a half-crazed look in his eye as he started hunting down the remaining tributes.

Meanwhile, my parents were trapped in the cave, where they received a lavish banquet from sponsors. My father told my mother about how he fell in love with her. And then I realized the meaning behind the red dress my father gave me for my first day of school. I scrunched up my nose in disgust at the –for lack of better word- making out they were doing in the cave. That made them laugh.

Once the rain cleared up, my parents began hunting. They separated- my mother hunted for game while my father went to pick berries. I know only too well how heavy his tread was and I know my mother was thinking about it too, since she smirked, which earned her a scowl from Daddy.

"I know I'm loud," he said.

"We all know, Peeta."

The sound of the cannon made both of them freeze. The girl from Five, who I just realized was following Daddy, dropped dead after eating a handful of the berries she stole from him.

Mother scolded Daddy for not responding to her signal, then she noticed the berries in his hand. She explained that it was extremely poisonous, and they watched as the girl was taken away by a hovercraft.

"It's just you and the boy from Two," I found myself saying.

They nodded.

I shifted my position so that my legs are tucked close to my body. Mother put her arm around me. I have an uneasy feeling in my gut and I knew. The Games are about to end.

A pack of large dogs started chasing the boy from Two. It was worse than anything I have ever seen. Something was unsettling about them, but I didn't realize what it was until my mother pointed it out.

"They're the dead tributes," she said, answering the unspoken question in my mind. "I don't know what they did, but they somehow made the mutts look like the dead tributes."

Twenty-three of them. They were chasing after the remaining tributes, their sharp teeth bared. My parents ran to the Cornucopia and climbed it, but the boy from Two caught my father in a headlock, suffocating him and threatening to drag him down in case my mother decided to shoot him.

Instead, my mother shot his hand, which released his grip, and he fell off the Cornucopia, right into the awaiting pack. The footage is cut to the next morning, where my mother finally decided to kill the boy and shot him in the head, ending his agony. A hovercraft took him away and the dogs left the scene.

"This is where…?" I began, but the announcer cut across me, announcing that the rule allowing two victors was revoked.

My father threw his knife into the lake at the same time my mother aimed her arrow at him. She dropped her bow and stepped away from him. He walked- _limped_- toward her and shoved the bow and arrow back in her hands, convincing her to kill him.

They argue for a while, but then he tore the bandages off his leg. My mother desperately tried to put it back and they argue some more.

"_Listen," Daddy said as he helped her up. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of is. Please, take it. For me. I love you, Katniss, and I'd rather die that have to live without you."_

But my mother was already fumbling with a pouch on her belt. Daddy stopped her immediately.

"_Trust me."_

They stared at each other for a moment then he let her hand go. She divided the berries between the two of them. _"On the count of three?"_

He kissed her. _"The count of three."_

They stand, back to back, their unoccupied hands locked tight. Then they start counting.

They had just put the berries in their mouths when the trumpets sounded and the panicked voice of the announcer declared them the winners. They spit the berries out and rinsed their mouths with water from the lake and then fell into each other's arms. Then they showed the audiences in the Capitol cheering for their victory. Finally the hovercraft comes and takes them away and the last shot was of my mother banging her fists into the glass barrier that separated her from my father.

The anthem played and the screen showed the Capitol seal. Then it faded to black.

My father stood up to turn the television off. My mother turned to me.

"That was awful," I told her. "I can't imagine how horrible it was for you guys. Is that why you kept having nightmares?"

She nodded. "I don't want to scare you, Lira," she said. "But your father and I agreed that it would be best if we didn't hide this from you."

"I'm glad you showed me," I said. "I'm glad, because this way, I got to know you better. I understand why you're like this."

"I want you to know that we-" she nodded towards Daddy, "didn't want to kill anyone. But you have to understand, it was-"

"Kill or get killed," I interrupted her. "I know. I want you to know that it doesn't matter to me what happened. I just wanted to know."

"Did it scare you?" Daddy asked me.

"A little," I admitted. There was no point in lying that I would not be having nightmares. "But I can handle it."

"Is there anything you want to ask us?"

"What happened afterwards? Sounds to me like it isn't something the Capitol would forgive easily."

"No, it's not," my mother agreed. "The Capitol threatened us and our families. Your father and I… we paid the price by being forced back in the arena."

I bit my lip. I don't know what to say anymore, really. They must be tired of hearing sympathy from others, tired of hearing people say how sorry they are that my parents had to endure what they did. Surely they don't want to hear that from their daughter. So I told them the only first thing that came to my mind.

"Thank you."

My mother looked startled. "For what?"

"For telling me, for all your sacrifices…" I look up to both of them. "Really, if I thought I was proud to be your daughter before… it's nothing to what I feel now. I'm glad I'm your daughter. I'm so honored to have you as my parents."

Mother's lip began to tremble. She engulfed me in a tight hug and I felt her tears. "Thank you, Lira. I love you so much, sweetheart."

"Love you too, Mom."

Daddy came and joined us. The three of us stayed like that for a while. Mother was still crying, but I knew she was happy. Daddy smiled at me and I smiled back, knowing that I couldn't have possibly said anything better. But it's true- I am glad to be the Mockingjay's daughter.

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There! Done! I will be posting other one-shots, and I'm taking requests! (I mean, if I manage to write something for it). Review! Until next time!


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